


All Hallows Eve

by dreaminghour



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Emotionally draining to write as well as read I suppose, F/M, Gen, M/M, Sorry Not Sorry, Tears, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 23:25:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7335250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreaminghour/pseuds/dreaminghour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the verge of a new start for the Potters, the world comes tumbling down before them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Hallows Eve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Birdie_Lo_Green](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Birdie_Lo_Green/gifts).



> You know this story, you've read and imagined it before. Here it is again, with more angst and wolfstar thrown in.

Lily's fingers were numb, her nose tingling from the chill of the night. She exhaled a long stream of smoke into the crisp silence, relishing the burn of the next drag on her cigarette. There was a slight breeze then, rasping the leaves against one another like a hag's laugh. She shivered, hugging her free hand under her arm, her down jacket enveloping the thin cold fingers. She sighed. The cigarette burned without her smoking it, and she dropped it in the can at her feet, sizzling in the bottom, then she went inside. She took off her coat in the entryway, hanging it on the hook beside James's looking at the baby motorcycle-seat placed beneath. She went up the stairs and into the back room, Harry's room, where James was soothing a restless baby. He paced back and forth, hugging his son to him and merely glanced at Lily as she came in.

“Ah, mummy's back now, like I said.” He rocked the fidgeting child a few more times while gears churned in his mind. “Don't mind the smell of her, you get used to it after a while.” He placed him in her arms and picked his glasses up off the dresser.

“James,” Lily whispered.

His smile was hollow, “What?”

Harry sneezed and James scoffed, leaving the doorway and treading softly down the hall. Lily laid Harry on his back and nested him beside a stuffed seal before kissing him on the forehead and following her husband.

“Was that necessary?” She asked.

He was immediately on the defensive, “At least you're not smoking in the house.” His voice was low but venomous enough. He sighed and took a step away from her, turning to the window. “Remus said that Sirius would be here soon.”

She bridged the distance between them, but didn't touch him, “So we defer our problems until then?” She asked and crossed her arms.

“Remus said Sirius would be here soon.” He repeated, remaining where he stood.

“Aren't we going to ever actually talk about this?” She whispered. He said nothing, “We're doing this for Harry's sake, I know. But is this really the best for _our_ baby?”

James glanced aside, “what else can we do?”

She reached out and her hand gently grasped the sleeve of his sweater, “You could take Harry and live with Remus and Sirius.” She clasped a little more tightly to the corded wool and her voice dropped, “I could run, be the distraction.”

“I don't _hate_ you, Lily.” His face contorted.

“They will assume he's with me, and you'd just have to lie low.” She rested a hand on his shoulder, his chest rapidly rising and falling as he fought back tears.

“They'd kill you as soon as they found you.”

“I can travel more quickly on my own, I'll carry a charm with me, a fake child, that will whimper and struggle in--”

“They will kill you,” he growled, bringing his hands up to cup her face. “I don't _hate_ you, my love.”

“No,” she said, “you just can't stand me anymore.”

James kissed her and she let him.

“Do I taste like ashes?” She rested her forehead against his, “do I taste of regret and despair?”

“I still love you.” He was vehement, pushing her away from him, but not letting her go. “You're the one who no longer loves me.” She shook her head, his thumb stroking her collarbone. “You never loved me, you only tolerated me. My stupid crush, my 'teenage infatuation'.”

“I was high,” she whispered, slipping out from his fingers. “Just because it took me longer to realize what we had.”

“We don't have anything,” he paced to the couch and back. He pulled on his hair and huffed, holding back tears.

“We have a _baby._ ” She dropped her voice as the anguish twisted out of her, “we wanted a baby, and now we have the most wonderful son in the world.” She could not stop herself from crying. “He will save us from the one thing we most fear. If we will only accept that being together isn't good for him, we can all be happy.”

“Stop being a sap, Lily.” He covered his eyes as a sob racked through him. “He needs his parents. We need to be bigger than this. This won't destroy us.”

Not so long ago she would have gone to him and pulled him close, soothing him as he had his son. But she did not do so then.

“It already has,” she said, slowly withdrawing from the room. “Sometimes you can think that love is hate, and maybe now, we believe that hate is love.”

“ _I don't hate you._ ”

“You just don't think you do,” she whispered and left him.

Harry's room was quiet. He had fallen asleep, one thumb in his mouth the other hand grasping the fin of his plush seal. She gently let her fingers play over his face, the skin finally clearing of a rash, drool spilling over his lips. She dabbed at it gently, cooing nonsense to him while she looked at her beautiful boy. She would convince james to move into the guest room of Remus and Sirius's place in Wales. A tear drop landed on Harry's jumper and she sniffed. She needed to write a letter.

In the living room she heard the sounds of James crying as quietly as he could, and she let him. She unlocked the college desk she wrote at and rolled the silent shutters up into the recesses of its cover. She dipped her quill into its jar, and opened to a random page of the journal Severus had given her upon her engagement.

 _Sev,_ her quill was as silent as an owl. _Are you there?_ She sighed as the ink dried and did not fade. She dipped into the inkwell again and wrote on.

 _I wanted to tell you last time we wrote, but it's been difficult. You know why, I hardly need tell_ you. _You've always known me so well, and even now, you're in the loop!_

_Ha ha._

_Sev, do you still love me? I ask because it's likely that we won't see each other ever again, one of us will surely die. If I do what I must, if James lets me, I may not survive to see my boy do what you surely fear he will do._

_Maybe you don't fear it, but that is not something you could tell me. Blasphemy._

_Oh, my dear friend. If you loved me, would you be willing to let me go? Would you let me kill myself, if you hated me?_

_Severus, if you love me... will you save my son? Would you trade one life for another? They want to kill him, would you let them kill me instead? Severus, would you do what is right?_

She sat at her desk staring at the doorway to Harry's room, lost in thought.

She heard James stand from the couch, a low murmur outside, like a engine subdued, and her heart skipped. James stepped on a floorboard that squeaked.

“Is that Sirius?” She called softly, but James did not reply.

“ _Merlin..._ IT'S HIM.” James roared.

 _found._ She scribbled.

“LILY, TAKE HARRY AND RUN. HE'S FOUND US.” James met the door which exploded, “LILY, RUN.”

Lily saw the Dark Lord rather than heard his curse, there was the flash of green and James lay at the top of the stairs, shards of the wooden door embedded in his abdomen, his glasses askew.

“James.” The anguished whisper was nothing more than a breath. She grasped the door frame and pulled herself into the nursery. She shoved open the window, the cool air which flooded in calmed her nausea, pulling Harry into her arms, she steadied herself. Her lungs screamed for oxygen. The stairs creaked and her blood turned to ice.

The chuckle was so quiet, but it lit the ice in her on fire. She hyperventilated on her way to the window, the happiness draining from her as the cold, too cold for October, invaded her and she thought dumbly, _shit, dementors_. One numb leg was over the ledge and Harry had begun to scream.

He stood in the doorway, Lily fumbled for her wand, snot choking her mouth, _had she been fucking crying?_ And the words, whatever spell she had thought she could use would not pass audibly through her lips. The Dark Lord sneered at her, and she kissed Harry on the head, his short dark hair as soft as the day he had been born. The sobs racked her, and when the green light came, Harry was cradled in her arms as she fell from the ledge onto the floor.

Harry's screams masked those of the man who had tried to kill him. The withering anguish, terror from one who had no reason to be afraid, the screech of one who would never die curdled Harry's blood, but he did not know why, and in his terror of being alone, he soon forgot even that. He clung to the flannel which smelled of cigarettes, caught his balled fists in her long, uncombed hair and screamed. His terror blinding him to anything else that went on inside that house. Outside was bitter silence. In the study, Severus found his version of the notebook.

 _Lily, are you alright?_ The splattered scrawl bubbled up out of the blank page beneath her words. There was a long pause during which Harry hiccuped himself into a furor, but of course Severus could not hear that. _I'm coming._ Was all he wrote.

Harry clung to his mother's plaid blouse, pleaded to her dead face for comfort, and shivered as the night air kept coming into his warm room, his clothes cold from the snot and tears he had wept into them, but he continued to scream, knowing nothing else to do. There was the crack of a car backfiring echoing through the night, and the crunch of boot heels on a dirt road, approaching. A curse from the street, and the person ran to the door, breathless, pausing to see James bleeding but then killed on his stairs. Stumbling to the nursery, Severus clung to the doorframe and what little color he had left drained out of him. Harry subdued at the sight of this strange dark man, pawing at his mother after not liking the looks of him and begging in what pidgin language he had to take her away from this. _To wake up!_ Severus reached for Lily and Harry wept silently at his side, tired beyond anything he had ever known. Severus cradled her head in his hands and wept, and Harry watched. He reached for the knee which was beside him, and drew Severus's gaze away from Lily to Harry. His green eyes were a tired question of desperation. Severus considered this baby, this proof of what was not his and glanced at the shriveled form of his once lord and master. He left the mother and son to see the form was gaunt, the skin already beginning to waste away from a fleshless skeleton. There was no life there, and Severus sneered at it, picking up the baby boy in his arms.

“You must be Harry,” He whispered.

“You must be suicidal,” came the reply.

Sirius stood in the doorway, his wand drawn and pointed at the unlikely pair of jilted lover and lover's child.

“He killed them before I could stop him,” Severus's voice cracked. He took a step forward, but Sirius flicked his wand.

“Not another step, you _cretin_.” Sirius's gaze only took a split second to take in the withered body of the Dark Lord at his feet.

“Is he dead?” he growled.

“Yes. I don't know how—”

“Save it.” Sirius stretched out his other hand, “Give me my godson.”

Severus made a step forward, stretching the child out before him, but then considering, his grip holding Harry fast.

“How do I know you won't kill me?”

Sirius's face twisted into a savage facsimile of it's former fury, “You fucking _sick-fuck_ .” He licked his lips, “My best mate is lying dead in the hallway behind me, his wife behind you and your _bargaining for your life with the life of a child?_ ” He strode forward to place the tip of his wand at Severus's throat. “Tell me why I shouldn't kill you now.”

“I didn't want them to _die!_ ” Severus hissed, seeing now how red Sirius's eyes were, and no doubt Sirius could see that Severus had cried as well.

“You _fucking_ led him here.” His hand was working to disentangle Harry, crying once again, from Severus's hands. “Enchanted some bloody christmas gift and _sold out your love for—”_

“You know nothing, you sleep with _animals_.” Snape thrust Harry into Sirius's unexpecting arms and dove through the window, landing with a curse on the ground six feet below.

“SEVERUS!” Sirius roared through the window, “I WILL _FUCKING_ KILL YOU FOR THIS!”

“Save your breath,” came the breathless response, “choose your friends better next time instead.” Severus stood on shaky legs, “Or maybe this one just slipped through the cracks.” He sneered. “Who do you trust? COWARDS AND BEASTS!” Sirius stared at him uncomprehending. “Peter's been at the Dark Lord's side for _months,_ lost to you for _years._ You drove him to this. If there's anyone who deserves dying, _it's you._ ” This last was whispered as Severus turned and limped into the darkness that had consumed the house.

Sirius threw floo powder into the crumbling fire and spoke clearly, “Harpy's Nest.” He cradled Harry in his arms as the flames licked around them, and spoke in murmurs, “shh, there now, it's just uncle Sirius, it's all right. You're going to be safe now.” His steady voice did not betray his unease, and when he arrived in his living room, he stumbled over a cold piece of wood and spooked the man standing and waiting for him.

Remus was silent, his face twisted in confusion. Harry was squirming in Sirius's arms. “Did James take the bike instead?” He gulped, “why have you brought Harry here?”

“James and Lily are dead, Remus.” He said and rocked the uneasy child in his arms, “Severus was... he's dead, Remus.”

“Severus? Why is Severus dead?”

Sirius laughed, “No, the bloody dark lord is fucking dead!” Harry scrunched up his eyes, and Remus took the child from Sirius's shaking hands.

“I have to find him,” he said, turning away to pace to the fireplace and back, “where would I find him?”

“Who?” Remus asked, shifting his weight from foot to foot, “there now, there now,” he cooed.

“Peter.”

“What's Peter got to do with this?”

Harry began to drift off, and Remus hurried to place him in the crib beside the sofa before he was too far gone. He stood by him, thoughtlessly glancing from him to Sirius as the distraught man gnashed his teeth. Once his eyes were shut a few seconds later, Remus quietly walked back over to Sirius.

“Pads. Let's go outside.”

“I need to find him,” Sirius said as Remus closed the door. “He needs to brought in.”

Remus laid a gentle hand on Sirius's shoulder, “let someone else bring him in.” He shuddered, “I can't believe Severus would let him kill Lily.”

“Voldemort's dead, Remus. You can say his name.”

Remus blanched.

“Peter's the one who told Voldemort, not Severus.”

Remus looked at Sirius startled, his hand falling to his side, hand covering his mouth. “He turned?”

“Months ago, Snape said.”

“How could he—”

“He's been strange for months, we should have known.”

Remus held his head in his hands. “We trusted him,” he said.

Sirius took a wary step toward the shivering man before him, and embraced him. “I'll fucking kill him for this,” he whispered.

Remus looked up, “you can't, send Caradoc a message, have him--”

“He deserves to die,” Sirius growled.

Remus caught his hands in Sirius's untrimmed hair. “Promise me you won't kill him,” his request was whispered.

“I'll try.” Sirius gripped Remus's sweater tightly. “I'll do my best, but I can't fucking promise—”

Remus kissed him, “do it for me,” he pleaded. “I can't lose you, too.”

“They're dead, Moony.” He wept, “It's all my damn fault.”

“He doesn't deserve to die, death is too good for him.” He wiped Sirius's tears away, “He deserves Azkaban.”

“I'll bring him in.” Sirius took a sobering breath and made to pull away.

“Hey,” Remus held him back and kissed him again, more desperately, hand at the nape of his neck keeping him from leaving just yet. He left only millimeters between them as he spoke, “Take care of yourself,” he breathed the words.

“I always do.” Sirius smiled and his hand lingered on Remus's shoulder. His hand leaving Remus's arm at the last possible moment. “Mooney,” Remus looked up, “hang on to these for now.” He flung the motorcycle keys to his last living friend. “I don't want to drop them while I'm out.” He winked, but the usual smile wasn't there. There was a crunch of dead grass as Sirius headed down to the treeline and apparated far enough away not to wake Harry.

* * *

 

Remus was woke the next morning by deliberate rapping at the door. As he carefully moved so as not to wake Harry, he discovered the spilled bottle of milk beside his leg. He cursed under his breath, shifting his weight ever so slowly, not sure just how deeply the baby was sleeping at the moment. The impatient rapping came again. As soon as he stood, Harry nestled in the crook of his arm, he made it to the door as quickly as he dared, sparing Caradoc Dearborn the necessity of knocking on the door again.

“Oh,” he said, glancing in shock at the lump of sleeping child in Remus's arms. “Morning Lupin, I'm sorry, I didn't realize—”

“What's going on?” He asked, his heart seized at the thought that if Caradoc was here, something must have happened to Sirius. “Did you catch Peter?”

“Peter. Peter Pettigrew.” Caradoc blanched, but gritted his death. “Why don't you put the baby down, Lupin.” He moved forward, hoping to encourage Remus to go back in.

“What's happened.” Remus felt a chill spread through him as he thought of the death toll, he spared himself the math for the latest figure.

“Please, Mr. Lupin.” Caradoc gestured, “let's go in.”

Remus felt weak, his hands unable to hold the baby anymore, he begrudgingly gave it to the young auror who stepped across the threshold after Caradoc. She gently laid him in the crib, and as he began to stir, she rocked the bed from side to side.

“Lupin.” Caradoc's voice was as though through water.

 _Strange,_ thought Remus, _who's drowning?_

“Remus,” there came a gentle tug at his elbow, “have a seat.”

He sat unthinkingly in the spilled baby milk and as the cold penetrated his corduroy pants, he thought of the effort it would take to get the milk out, _if I don't do it soon it will spoil and the smell--_

“Peter was killed this morning.” Caradoc leaned across to lay a hand on Remus's arm.

_With Padfoot's sharp nose, he'd smell it before it even got bad enough for anyone else to smell._

“Sirius was taken in without any struggle.” The witch turned to watch as Caradoc spoke in child-like softness, “There will be a trial, but all the witnesses saw the same thing.”

_Padfoot._

“He did it in full view of _Muggles_ , Remus.” Caradoc's voice rose a little, “Is it enough that he had to get revenge on an _unarmed_ man, he blew Pettigrew to a million pieces in the middle of a _muggle_ street!” The witch stirred from her place at the rise in Caradoc.

“Remus,” she spoke softly, “he'll be sent to Azkaban for this.”

Caradoc looked at her, anywhere but at Remus. _Why?_ Remus realized he was weeping, _like an idiot child._

Caradoc cleared his throat, “This is Morven Hidge. She's from the ministry as well.”

“I need to ask you,” she cleared her throat, “I'm sorry, but your relationship with the incarcerate—”

“ _Hidge!_ ” Caradoc barked.

“Were you married?” She asked.

“No.”

“No?”

“Next year, maybe.”

Morven looked to Caradoc, “We'll make note.” She glanced back at the crib, “His godmother is a Muggle, is that correct?”

“What?” Remus looked up, his face wet, _I don't care_.

She seemed painfully uncomfortable and he relished in it, _my fiancé is a cold-blooded murderer, let her squirm._

“Depending on the decision of the ministry, he'll be put into their custody. Or yours.”

He snorted, “Yeah, right.”

“Well—”

“Just go.”

“Would you like to be kept abreast of the trial?” Caradoc asked.

“Just _go_ .” Remus stood and went to the crib, staring out the window behind it, not turning until the click of the door came. He stared down at the sleeping boy, his hair matted with snot and blood, _whose blood?_ He sniffed, _his own—_ but there was no injury. _I'll give Harry a bath once he wakes up_ , Remus decided, too numb to think further. _I should probably eat something_ , he tried to visualize the pantry, imagining instead the expansive waste surrounding this tiny little cabin.

_It's over at last._

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this three years ago, I don't know why I held onto it for so long. If you like this, leave some love and feel free to check out my other stuff. Thank you for reading~


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